He had stayed in the forest for some time, hiding from the rest of the world in the twisting shadows before finally finding the courage to venture from his wooded home. There was no way to tell if anyone was even searching for him; who would be? Apollo wasn't the same stallion that he had been as 'Chief of the Foothills', or even as a Medic. He was a wanderer now, shamed of himself and his inability to help those most precious to him. What would Andreas think of him now, so low and having fallen so far?

A mournful scoff left the Merciful's dark lips at that, honey-brown orbs downcast and bitter. His sister... She had been missing for so long, and honestly, Apollo was losing faith that he'd even see her again. Was this the fate of all that he loved? To have them so close within his grasp, only for them to slip free and be lost to him forever?

Each step that he took was with careful precision, stepping over anything in his path, hooves practically dragging in the sodden earth. Birdsong was among them, and normally the overo would find such tenderhearted solace in the arrival of his favorite season... But this time, he could take no joy in the returning life of vegetation around him. Joy, it seemed, had become a foreign concept to the wayward unicorn.

The stallion's ears flicked forward, listening to the sounds of the Grove. Whatever had brought him here of all places, in the Lan of Lovers, he didn't know. The evening sun shone brightly through the canopy of trees and willows, the skies already turning pink and orange to signal that nightfall wasn't too far away... But the ebonite stallion was numb to it all.

While his body moved, searching for a place of respite, Apollo's mind was elsewhere. He was lost in his memories, lost in nightmares... A bloody battleground in the fury of a storm, a gentle laugh and a loving caress, those heart-stopping, crimson eyes staring into his... Those memories had happened so long ago, and it almost felt like another life. In a way, perhaps it was.

Apollo's head tilted upwards as he stopped, standing stationary beneath the bowing branches of a thick willow tree, nestled next to the crystal clear grove. A breeze danced through the air, rippling the long, cascading branches and causing the soft leaves to brush against his back and sides. The Merciful sucked in a long, tired breath, then allowed himself to slump to the ground, legs folded messily beneath his monochromatic bodice. This would be a good place to rest.

Allowing his eyes to fall closed, Apollo nuzzled the grass beneath him, taking comfort in the hidden embrace of the majestic willow tree. Oh, how far he had fallen...

[ooc: For @[Ktulu] :D Sorry for the kind've shoddy post, Ali. <3 Gotta get back in the groove of things.]